


Feast Upon My Lips

by KindOfEvil



Series: A Long Road to Your Heart [2]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Attempted Seduction, He is Doing His Best OK?, He is Playing a Dangerous Game, Leave It to Melkor to Make Fruit Look Like Organs, M/M, Mairon is clueless, Melkor is learning, Other, Seduction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:41:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23787247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KindOfEvil/pseuds/KindOfEvil
Summary: Melkor decides to mess with some Maiar and mend the rift between Himself and The Little Flame while He's at it.
Relationships: Morgoth Bauglir | Melkor/Sauron | Mairon, Vala/maia - Relationship
Series: A Long Road to Your Heart [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1715368
Comments: 8
Kudos: 44





	Feast Upon My Lips

**Author's Note:**

> HC: Melkor has greater connection to Arda than other Valar, as in - he can actually feel all that it feels. Because he shares part of all other Ainur's power. Other Valar can partially do the same, depending on which part of it their song is connected to (For example: Ulmo can feel everything that is happening in the oceans and other waters of Arda).  
> -This also means some of their creations will also partially listen to Melkor (like trees).

Soft melody of lesser spirits echoed through the forest. Their notes rolled over its green paths, coiled around strong trees and rung in their high treetops, where He slept. 

He hummed faint notes to His shelter's slender limbs, crowned in lush green. «Hide me!» Its song trembled as discord caressed its thick skin. «Keep Me out of their sight, do not whisper of Me to ye Lady.» The Forest listened, as it always did. Even though it were not of His own mind, it mirrored His notes. It drank from His Arda after all, their veins intertwined. Arda's heart beat as His own and so all that fed upon it whispered His notes. Much to dismay of His brethren. He followed with a praising note «Good!» Their obedience pleased Him.

Content and sure none would bother Him, He thought to return to the blissful embrace of sleep. He needed it not, but it allowed His thoughts to run unchecked. To create beautiful things, rise sweet ideas. However The echoes of the little ones' song drew His attention. No more than ten spirits, all clad in fana, cascaded across soft grass. 

Unaware of His presence, as He wished. 

They came to a stop at a small field, adorned by swinging branches that reached out to the skies in praise. Melkor bid them lower, around himself. «Why dost thou reach for Him?» He inquired. «He who only knows to caress thy tenderest branches, He who cares not for thy strength? Thou don't need Him» He received no answer.

Three Maiar intertwined their fingers and spun in the center of the clearing. Their light dress flowing around delicate limbs. Their companions sat some distance away, some followed merry dance with their own song, and some spoke among each other, not with song but rather with words.* Language, a mere imitation of a greater harmony.

One sat aside, a fair-faced little thing. Its fana slender but well defined, a great strength flowed like magma under translucent, delicate, golden skin. It reminded Him of hot veins running through His Arda. Slim waist. Elegant limbs. And glossy hair, the colour of amber, crowning its head, slight waves flowing down its back. A fire spirit.

He recognised It, from their earlier meeting. Melkor's hand unconsciously moved to His chest. That time things didn't go too well. He wondered how The Little Spirit would react if He approached It again. Probably not well, He mused in mirth as ideas of mischief arose in his mind.

The Fiery One held Itself in a sitting position with one arm, the other lay across Its raised knee. It wore a simple outfit. Light brown pants with pure white tunic. A long piece of narrow red cloth tied around Its waist. His brethren put such a great importance of wearing cloth over their fana, and yet choose such plain thing to adorn themselves. Their nude form was far more interesting, He failed to see what made them think it inappropriate. His thoughts wandered to His first meeting with The Other, He never did see Its nude fana. Only spirit. They may be alike, but it still made Him curious. What would Its skin feel like beneath His claws? What would Its slender form feel like trapped in His embrace?

The Maia's head tilted slightly, listening to others' song. But It was disinterested, Its melody sighed with boredom. To Melkor's displeasure Its song vibrated with Aulë's tunes, though It did not quite adopt them into Its own. Keeping Itself separate. A male Maia closest to The Little Flame noted its brother's foul mood. It leaned to the other and whispered a few words. Another one of Aulë's.

The Fiery One remained impassive. 

A needle jabbed at His face, or rather a beak. A bright blue feathery thing stared angrily at Him. One of wild bluebirds. It would not have approached Him by itself. He snatched it before it could fly away and examined its eyes which glittered in an unnatural glow. «Thou hath found Me,» He purred, earning a glare from the bird. «Dost Thou not worry what I would do to Thee little friend?» a great fear, not for itself, but for another, passed its eyes. The bird stretched its neck to peck him. «Thou dost love to peck, huh?» He grinned and forced His song onto it, Chasing away the other and reshaping the little being from within. Soon the colour drained from its form. it grew larger, bright red feathers sprouted atop its head. «Go Peck then!» He let it go and it flew to a nearby tree, starting to drill a hole into it. «Nay! Go by Her window, or better yet hollow one of dearest trees in Her gardens.» It stopped to regard Him, then flew where He instructed. «And pierce all Aulë's shelves while thou art at it!»

For a moment Melkor returned to observing a scene below - Then a fancy came to Him, to mess with the lesser ones a bit. He pulled his crooked legs below Himself and launched His body at the ground. The Maiar noticed a thud followed by a rustle and their alert eyes turned in His direction. Slowly, He approached. Moving from the shadows that clung to His form, into the cursed light. Lesser spirits jumped away, gathered closely at far end of the clearing. Eyes full of fear, as if doom itself were standing before them. Only The Fiery One remained apart. It stood from Its place and moved a step back, observing His every movement. Its song gave a low growl and hair burst aflame, a warning to stay away.

Ah, It had not forgotten Him.

How to approach this odd little thing? He wondered while advancing towards The Lesser Spirit and Its companions with His hands locked at His back. Their song trembled in fear as they covered their eyes. "What dost ye want?" The Courageous Spirit spat. It spoke with words not song - The Others have gotten to It.

He stopped, an arm's length away. "Dost thou have a name, Little One?" The dark Vala inquired.

It nodded, "This 'Little One' does indeed," repeating His endearment.

A simple answer took Him aback. Was It looking to insult Him? "...and it would be?" He tried again.

Flame regarded Him for a moment. "Why dost ye want to know?" 

Courageous Little One are we? "Would thou rather be referred to as the Little One? Or perhaps Little Flame? Or..."

«Mayazônôz*,» it sang its theme, interrupting the Vala, "Mairon, 'tis my name," he clarified.

"Precious, indeed," The Dark One purred.

This seemed to please the Maia. "What doth ye desire from us?" he asked as fire atop his head returned to lustrous locks.

"Ye did seem merry," He glanced at Mairon's companions, "and perhaps I wished to join ye." He added mockingly.

"Join?" Mairon inquired, "don't Valar usually only observe?" 

Indeed, they have gotten to his head. "Doth thou find it improper?" 

The Little Flame let his eyes wander up and down His form. "Thee doth not clothe thyself," he announced as if that meant anything.

"My fana is my cloth!" Maia was not convinced, he turned to observe his brothers and sisters. Their faces turned red in shame and hands covered their eyes. Melkor grinned. "Doth thou companions find Me improper?" He teased glancing at others. Hands flew down, the Maiar looked everywhere but at Him unsure how to react, how to not offend The Great One.

Melkor turned from them, pleased with their clumsy reaction. "I bring thou a gift." Hands unhooked as He presented Mairon with a strange shape held in one of them. "So that we may forget our earlier dispute."

Mairon raised one fine bow questioningly. "Is that so? What dost Thou bring?"

"A delicacy!" 

Maia examined the peace offer. A large round shape that fit in His enormous claw. Its colour was a bright orange, like a flower, and its surface covered in small spikes. Melkor dug one sharp nail into its flesh, piercing thick skin, and pulled, softly parting it in two. It was yellow on the inside and separated in several segments that contained something that reminded him far too much of stuff found inside of bodies. Which he had the 'pleasure' of seeing when he accidentally came across a dead deer, ripped open. Lady Yavanna was greatly disturbed by it. Mairon did not know much of the world yet, but he was sure fruit should not look like that.

Melkor dug His talons inside and pulled out a small piece, offering it to him. Mairon doubted he wanted it anywhere near his mouth. "Afraid Little One?" The Vala taunted him.

"Mairon." The Maia reminded.

"'tis not poisonous." Melkor added, not bothering to correct Himself, and threw it into His own mouth. "See?" He took out a flat seed, its sides as pointy as the fruit itself, and threw it aside, not caring where it would land or take root. 

He dug for another and placed it in-between His fangs, leaning down to Mairon's face. «Well?» He sang a challenge. One of Maiar sang a warning to Mairon, advising him to retreat, but the fiery Maia was too curious to leave, or perhaps it was his pride that forbade him. The Vala did not expect Mairon to actually accept the offer, He was merely messing with the smaller spirit, knowing well how they feared his pointed teeth. Discord around him vibrated in amusement. Which was short-lived as the fiery Maia actually reached with his own mouth to seize the offered piece. Melkor shuddered as warmth passed nigh His lips. 

One of the Maia's companions fainted, its friends too shocked to catch it before it hit the ground with a thud.

Mairon pulled the piece from Vala's mouth into his own and stepped back, blood-red juice trickling down his chin. He wiped it with his hand and contemplated the taste and texture. It was... strange... slick and soft, with a mild, almost nonexistent sweet taste. Unlike anything he had before. He liked it. Mairon took the seed out of his mouth and held it in his hand. Fingers tracing slight ridges, then closing around it. He turned his gaze back to the Vala, expectant. 

Melkor stared at him baffled.

Well then! He mused, and took another piece out, piercing it with His nail, letting its juice drip across His fingers as He brought it to Maia's lips. Mairon focused on Him as he took the fruit again, lips brushing against His skin. The Vala sighed and kept His hand close to Mairon's lips as the other savoured the taste of the fruit. The Maia's eyes closed as he licked his lips, and then seized Melkor's hand in a light grip to clean His fingers. The Vala's tail swashed around as electricity crawled through His body. All too familiar feeling settling at His stomach. He strained to hold back, not wanting to chase him away again.

The other Maiar stared at them in horror, pleading to the skies above for another Great One to make appearance and save their naive brother from the grasp of The Dark One. 

Melkor purred and offered his new attraction another piece, this time holding it a bit away, beckoning little spirit to approach him further. Mairon did, and Melkor pulled out of his reach again, playful grin upon His features. The Maia wasn't pleased with His game but he played along, closing the distance between them. Just as he thought it was within reach, Melkor pulled away and planted the piece up on His fangs again. He turned His head aside and held it challengingly high. Mairon glowered at Him, and got an amused hum in return: «Well...?» He repeated His earlier taunt. Mairon wasn't the one to turn down a challenge. He drew closer, till their bodies pressed together. Clothes against naked skin. Melkor marvelled at the way smaller spirit's form fit against His own. Hand resting upon The Dark Vala's shoulder, Mairon pulled himself up, but the prize was still barely out of reach. Discord twirled in delight and the Vala benevolently lowered His head down earning an annoyed huff from the other. Their lips brushed as Mairon pulled piece of the fruit from His mouth again.

His song vibrated in joy, tail twisting behind Him. He relished in the feeling granted by the contact with fiery Maia. He wanted more. Alas, the Powers choose this moment to heed the little ones' prayer and a distant stern voice pulled them apart. «Aȝūlēz!» His song cursed at interruption and the Vala disappeared, merging into the shadows from which He came. Leaving Mairon behind, both of his hands full of a strange gift. 

"What hath happened here?" The Great Smith demanded as the little ones crowded around him whining in distress.

"The Dark One came!" They voiced in union. "He Who Rises in Might!"

"Melkor?" Aulë asked.

"Indeed 'tis Him!" Came another, feminine voice. "He corrupted another of my own!" The Green Lady arrived carrying a large dark grey bird with red feathers on its head. Frown upon her face. "Are ye alright?" She asked the group. 

Her husband answered. "Aye, they seem to be. Just slightly stressed." One of his own hummed into his ear. "Huh? Who?" He inquired it. "Mairon?" The spirit nodded and pointed in direction of the Maia in question. Still standing where he was, staring at the sea of leaves and wood. "Mairon?" The Great Smith called him and he turned towards his Vala. "Come." Aulë beckoned, so he did. The Vala observed him, making sure, there was no damage. Then his gaze fell onto the strange object in his Maia's hands. "What is this?" 

"The Dark One gave it to me." The Maia answered honestly.

"Destroy it!" The Lady wailed. "'tis a work of corruption, misshapen from what it once was."

"Can't we grow it?" Mairon asked. "It tastes wonderful."

Yavanna gasped at his inquiry, "Grow it?!" Then added in disbelief, "Thou ATE it?!"

A hand rested on her shoulder. "Calm, I shall speak with him." Aulë turned to Mairon. "Thou art new here so I understand, but do not think The Eldest means well. His gifts may be sweet, however, they only hide the evil intent with which he offers them." He took the fruit from his Maia's hands. "I shall take care of this. If thou feel unwell, even slightly, came to me. And stay away from Him, understood?"

"I understand." Mairon answered... while clenching at the seeds behind his back.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh Tolkien, why hath thou wrote in such a way?  
> I barely speak normal English and yet choose to torture myself so!
> 
> *The Ainur speak mostly through song, they created Valarin after they took a physical form.  
> *I know Mairon is Quenya and Mayazônôz is Valarin, but I had no other way to make distinction between how a Maia would call themselves in song as opposed to speech, so I decided to stick with this even though it is inaccurate. (Also writing their Valarin names all the time would be a pain in the butt!) The only one who still uses Ainur's true names is Melkor... because he is a pain in the butt!  
> BTW: The fruit Melkor offered is called Gac fruit.
> 
> Mairon's logic: If a Vala can eat it so can I!  
> meanwhile....  
> Melkor, eating 'lava flakes' with diamonds: Delicious, Finally! Some good fucking food!


End file.
